


The Taste of Corellian Whisky

by itspixiesthings



Series: Long Live the Emperor [2]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Blowjobs, Cock Sucking, Crush, Dom Hux, Humiliation, Infatuation, Liquor, M/M, Masturbation, Obsession, One-Sided Attraction, Punishment, Service, Stalking, Unrequited Love, sub Mitaka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 18:57:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6483178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itspixiesthings/pseuds/itspixiesthings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lieutenant Mitaka has been newly appointed to the Finalizer. Though this is an exciting step up in his military career, he finds it difficult to keep at bay the inappropriate thoughts that flood his mind concerning the strict General who oversees the ship.</p><p>Just a love story about a General and his Lieutenant! (Just kidding this is not a love story, and Hux is an asshole)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This functions as a prequel to my Chaos and Discipline fic, though it can be read as a stand alone of it's own. I've been obsessed with the idea of Hitaka ever since White_Rainbow started her Mikylux fic, as well as Festeringsilence's delicious artwork ahahaha. Shout out to greedlingtrash on tumblr for some of the discussions we've had that have shaped my headcanons about Hitaka dynamics. <3

 

The Lieutenant's hands were folded neatly behind his back, his posture proper and his stance exact as he looked out into the wide room that served as the ship's main station of operations. The bridge. His eyes were only slightly widened in awe, trying to tame his expressions down so that he didn't appear.... quite so _green_. Which was not an easy feat. The Finalizer was the First Order's flagship after all; the largest and most impressive ship in the fleet. He found it awe inspiring just to be standing on it at all, let alone with a brand new posting.  
  
There was a bustle of excitement amongst the men here, and he had to admit to himself that it was contagious. Things were happening, _big_ things, and he had the privilege to be a part of them. The Starkiller Base was almost complete, which was a feat in and of itself. It had been in the workings for the entirely of his military career already, and to have it so near completion now was a monument to the First Order's might. He felt like he was about to witness history itself unfold before his eyes.  
  
And there were rumours around that the Supreme Leader was going to assign the Master of the Knights of Ren himself to the ship. That thought both excited and frightened him, as he was certain was the general consensus. He had never met any of the Knights, only heard about them in whispers around the officer lounges. People said they were ghastly spectres of the Dark Side, hearkening back to the old days of the Sith. He shuddered. It would be a terrifying honour to serve under Lord Ren, for certain.  
  
This was his first day at his new posting, and he was already overwhelmed with excitement for all of the things that were happening. Orientation had been brief, and he strode with a show of confidence into the room, eager to face his first day of duty aboard the Finalizer like he had faced every day in his career thus far: With as much professional enthusiasm as he could muster, and all the heart he could pour into his work. This was just one more step up in his career, he told himself. It was no different than the steps that had already come before. He was an officer of the First Order. He knew how to handle himself.  
  
His confidence faltered however, when he spied _him_ for the first time.  
  
_General Hux_. He had heard of the man before, though never had he laid eyes on him personally. The First Order General... and by and large the leader that most rallied behind. Perfectly in order uniform under a large greatcoat. Red hair upon his brow that was at once as eye catching as it was uncommon. A serious expression and intense eyes. He was known for being strict, high maintenance, but just and fair in his dealings with his men. He inspired compliance and loyalty in most, if not all, of his subordinates. And at a glance, Mitaka could see why.  
  
It was something in his stance, in his gait and in his eyes. The way he took in the room with a cold and calculating stare. The way he walked with purpose and carried himself with confidence. It was all very militaristic, but instead of looking as though he had mastered the arts of the Academy, he looked as though he _embodied_ them. The man moved through the room like he owned it, and Mitaka watched with a fascinated stare as the others in the room subconsciously seemed to make way for him.  
  
His breathing picked up when the General continued walking until he was directly in front of him. To him, the room seemed to still, as though time itself had come to a stand. He held his breath, putting his legs together and his arms straight, at once going to attention before his superior. The General's eyes raked over his form, taking in his appearance, his stance, and his attitude before he nodded. “At ease, Lieutenant.”  
  
Mitaka's stance relaxed, folding his hands with military precision. Had the General liked what he saw when he inspected him? He had made extra certain his uniform was above and beyond the standard care today, his hair cut to exact measurements, everything about himself properly groomed. Still, he hoped for one wide eyed moment that he had not missed something. If the General was either impressed or disappointed however, he did not say anything about the Lieutenant's appearance. “Good to have you on board, Lieutenant Mitaka. I've heard good things about you. I trust you won't disappoint.”  
  
The Lieutenant gulped, swallowing back his nerves as he nodded, crisp and professional. “Of course, General. I'm glad to be here. I will do my utmost to live up to expectations.” The General nodded again, and then he was gone, continuing along as though the Lieutenant no longer existed. Mitaka let out a breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding, his heart pounding in his chest. A blush crept across his face.  
  
So _that_ was the famed First Order General Hux.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

The smell of sweat and metal met his nose as his feet pounded on the running machine. The sound of clanging bars and breaths of exertion was heavy in the air. The gym was not overly occupied at this time of the day, most of the machines were vacant, only a few other officers present, but the sounds of their presence still filled the room. It was a required regimen that the soldiers and officers of the Finalizer keep in top physical condition, and that was not something the Lieutenant took lightly. His breathing was hard as he pushed himself, taking it upon himself to make sure his body was as well tuned as he could manage.  
  
He had been on board for a week already, and although the job itself was not outside of the realms of his abilities, he was finding that there were other... _complications._ He could not get the _General_ out of his mind. Every time he was given orders, briefed on missions, or even spied him from a distance, he felt a rush of admiration and awe sweep over him. He wanted to be nearer him, to get to know him. Unfortunately the General was not known for spending time in the officer's lounge or socializing with the crew. On the contrary, there were whispers going around, only half serious perhaps, that the man did not even eat or sleep, always much too busy with work to do anything so pedestrian.  
  
But apparently, he did use the gym. Mitaka's heart just about leapt out of his chest when the ginger entered the facilities. This was the time of the day cycle that the General liked to use the gym facilities, Mitaka knew. The General never spoke to anyone when he came to the gym, and he preferred to come when there were not many others around. He kept to himself as he went about his routine.  
  
Mitaka's run slowed, only for a moment, before he picked up again, desperate not to appear as though he were watching the man. General Hux was wearing a dark grey tank top that showed off his arms, and black sweatpants, a stark contrast to the usual well dressed shape he tended to cut. Mitaka could hardly believe his eyes as the man moved towards the weight machine.  
  
The Lieutenant found it difficult to peel his eyes away, though he knew he could not be caught staring. As the General sat himself in the chair, clasping the levers in his hands, Mitaka could see the tight muscles of his arms ripple. He was not hugely built, but he was lean, and he looked, in a word, _powerful_. Clearly as well disciplined with himself as he was with his men. The Lieutenant felt mesmerized by the movements as General Hux began to move the weights, pulling the levels over and over in a hypnotic motion. He swallowed, licked his lips, and switched off the running machine. He knew he was in danger of stumbling if he kept this up.  
  
Breathing heavily, he grasped the towel that was waiting beside the machine. A few more moments, lingering, watching. He knew he couldn't push his luck... just a glance was all he had hoped for. He groaned as he moved off to make his way towards the showers. He grimaced as he walked, sighing to himself as he left the room, willing himself not to cast another glance over his shoulder to spy his superior officer. He wished he might have been able to stay and watch a little longer, but that one lingering moment would have to suffice.  
  
He stripped out of the white tank and sweats he had been wearing, folding them neatly and setting them aside as he began to run the water. His mind filled with images of the General, stripped down to tight workout clothes. Sweat sticking his usually immaculately kept hair to his skin. He leaned against the wall, moving to let the water cascade over his body as his hand slowly made it's way down to where his cock was already painfully hard.  
  
His hand grasped the length of it, pulling on it as he played the few moments he had dared to watch the man over and over in his mind. Groaned as his hand moved up and down as he imagined General Hux, his muscles straining to pull the weights. General Hux, breathing heavy and deep as he pushed himself hard, keeping his body in fit condition. The way his legs strained as he braced himself against the weights.  
  
The last time he had seen him in the gym he had been using the punching bag. The way his fists connected with the bag, making the chains rattle. The way sweat drenched him, the scent filling the room. His legs, delivering sharp kicks in perfect form. Mitaka felt a shudder run through his body as he pictured it, his cock throbbing in his grip as he moved his hand faster. Shame coloured his face; he _knew_ this was inappropriate behaviour. Unbefitting of an officer. Still, it wasn't as though masturbation was prohibited, and who's business was it what he thought of when touching himself? He sighed, moving his hand, placing the other on his chest.  
  
Then he heard the footsteps. He jumped, removing his hands from his body as he slipped behind a dividing wall. He heard the movements, hoping to god that whoever it was was not going to take long in the shower stall next to his. His face burned with embarrassment as curiosity overcame him, and he peered carefully around the corner.  
  
The General was done his workout already? How long had Mitaka been in the showers then, daydreaming about his superior officer's slim physique and beautifully maintained form? He swallowed as his eyes roamed the man for just one moment, his face flushing beet red as he saw his entire body laid out before him. He looked hard, _strong._ Slight, but wiry. His torso was sculpted perfection, making him have to hold back a gasp of amazement. When his eyes travelled lower...  
  
He pulled himself back around the corner, his heart thudding loud in his chest. He knew he was crossing boundaries here. Spying on the man in the shower? If he was brave, he would have simply walked out and payed the General no mind, like anyone else. These were communal showers after all. Nobody was embarrassed about their nudity here. Leave it to perverts like himself to take what everyone took as normal and make it weird. He sighed.  
  
His hand went to his cock again, feeling the hardness of it in his grip. He could still hear the General on the other side of the dividing wall, could just imagine him lathering himself with soap, his hands over his own body, the water coursing over his firm musculature. He had to bite his lip to keep from moaning aloud as his hand moved up and down. He imagined what the General's perfect body might feel like pressed up against his. Pinning him to the shower wall.  
  
There were sounds of movement beside. His face was hot with shame as he tried to hurry, his heart pounding at the thought of getting caught. What would the General do if he caught him? Would he be punished? That thought alone was enough to finish him. He gasped soundlessly, his eyes wide as he spilled streams of white over his hand, quickly washed away under the stream of hot water to go down the drain.  
  
He heard the water on the other side shut off. Did not dare to peer around the corner again to look. Desperately trying to catch his breath. Footsteps took the man away and the swish of door mechanisms signalled he was alone again in the showers. But he did not dare to move yet. He stayed, standing in his shame under the water that was now turning cold, trying to get himself together. All he could think of was the General, his _perfect_ General, on the bridge of the Finalizer, perfectly in control, perfectly put together.  
  
He was nothing next to this man, he thought with a sigh of resignation. He was a _mess._

 


	2. Chapter 2

His heart was in his throat as his hand hovered over the buzzer. Over the past few weeks he had been unable to rid his thoughts and his dreams of the handsome General that ran the Finalizer, the cold and calculating man who kept a tight ship and a tighter schedule. He wanted to _impress_ him, somehow, but the man was never _off duty._ He was beginning to think that the rumours were true. Mitaka had done everything he could to be diligent at his work, to live up to the high standards set by the First Order and the even higher standards set by the General himself, but thus far the man had barely deigned to notice him. He only spoke to him to give him orders, and if he acknowledged a job well done it was with a curt nod, and nothing more.  
  
He swallowed. Pressed the buzzer that would alert the man over the comm that someone was there. “G..General Hux, may I have a moment of your time, Sir?” He managed the words and then waited, his eyes wide and his breathing heavy. It seemed like he was waiting an eternity before the man's voice returned to him over the comm. “You may enter.”  
  
He took a moment to fix his uniform, making extra certain that everything was up to standards and then some, squared his shoulders, and pushed the button to open the doors. They swished as they opened, and he found himself walking directly into the office of General Hux. The man himself, seated behind the desk, looked preoccupied and busy, but he turned his gaze upwards, his eyebrows raised expectantly at his subordinate. “Yes, Lieutenant? What can I do for you?”  
  
The Lieutenant stood awkwardly at attention, trying to steel his nerves before speaking. “I... I was hoping I might be able to do something for _you_ , General. Is.. is there any way that I might be of _service_ to you?” His heart raced. This was not standard. This was not usual. Common sense dictated that if the General had wanted more performance from him, he would have already asked. He knew what he was saying was out of the realms of normalcy.  
  
As if in tandem with his thoughts, the General's brows furrowed as he looked the Lieutenant over. Seemed to be considering the query. “Aren't you _off_ active duty at this time of the day, Lieutenant?” Mitaka swallowed and nodded, a stiff response nowhere near as cool and in control as the crisp and authoritative gesture the General was so in the habit of giving.  
  
“Yes Sir. I was... simply wondering if there were any way I could be of _further_ use to you.” As if deliberating the offer, the General looked for a moment down at his datapad, and then back at Mitaka.  
“Lieutenant. I _certainly_ hope that this is _not_ an attempt to kiss ass in order to procure preferential treatment. I had thought _better_ of you than that.” His voice was heavy with warning, though not outright angry. Mitaka hastened to shake his head, his arms and legs still stiff and at attention.  
  
“No... _no Sir_. I.. I simply _wish_ to be of further use to you Sir. I have.. no desire for preferential treatment.” That seemed to give the man pause, as his eyes looked over the Lieutenant, who's body had begun to shake. A gloved hand rested on his chin as he watched him closely, and Mitaka found himself flushing under his appraising gaze. He hoped to the sky that the General liked what he saw when he looked at him like this.  
  
“ _At ease_ , Lieutenant.” Mitaka's body relaxed at once, a sigh of relief breathed through his lips as his stance widened, his hands folding neatly. He waited. The General still watched him with the intensity of a hawk, his eyes boring into him as though he could see into his very soul. Finally he gestured towards a cabinet at the far side of the room. “Go to that cabinet and open it.”  
  
His eyes widened, his heart flush with excitement. _The General had given him an order._ He could feel his skin heat and his blood race as he moved, elation and pleasure beaming on his eager face. His legs carried him the short distance to the cabinet, which he opened at once. Inside there was a bottle, and his breath hitched as he saw it. The label marked it Corellian whisky. It figured the General would have a stash of some of the most rare and expensive liquor in the Galaxy. Beside the bottle was a single short glass. It looked expensive as well. Crystal, no doubt.  
  
“Pour me a glass and bring it to me. I take it neat. Two fingers.” General Hux's voice was no different than when he was barking orders on the bridge. He was authoritative, short, and to the point. A rush of pleasure sang through the Lieutenant's veins. He knew it was unlikely anyone else served him _personally_ like this. Maybe nobody else had taken the initiative to offer. He grasped the bottle in one hand and the glass in the other, collecting himself to pour the drink with care. Measured out two fingers with precision.  
  
He forced himself to still his hands from shaking as he brought the whisky to the desk, placing the glass before the General with an almost reverent bow of the head. The man reached out to grasp the glass as he returned his body to a respectful, waiting posture, though the General promptly began paying him no mind at all, his attention back on his datapad.  
  
Mitaka laboured to still his breathing, his eyes hopeful that there might be something else he could do for the man. He watched as General Hux brought the glass to his lips, taking small sips and letting the drops wash over his tongue with a slow kind of appreciation. Of course, Corellian whisky was not exactly cheap. It was not something one simply guzzled.  
  
He didn't know how long he stood there, waiting for further instructions. He knew he couldn't move from where he stood, and the General was well aware that he was there and willing to serve, so there was no point in trying to speak again. Somehow he knew that the man was testing him, and he resolved to dutifully pass with flying colours. Eventually, the glass was empty, though how much time had transpired Mitaka did not know. He knew that his legs and arms were beginning to ache from stillness, but he did not vocalize his discomfort.  
  
Finally the General spoke again. “Go put the glass away. There is a cloth in the cabinet and a running tap to wipe it clean.” Mitaka moved at once, eager to obey the command given from his superior. His hand grasped the crystal once more, and slowly he took it back to the cabinet, where he rinsed it with care and set it down exactly where he had found it. His heart was racing as he straightened his stance again, awaiting further instructions.  
  
He thought he saw the General smile, only for a moment, before the man gestured with his hand towards the door. “You are dismissed, Lieutenant.” He let a crestfallen expression cross his own face for only a moment, before he nodded with some reluctance. “Yes...Sir. Thank you for letting me serve you, Sir.” At that he stood at attention again before he turned to leave the room, the mechanical doors swooshing open to allow him to pass.  
  
When he had excited he stopped for a moment, a wide grin spreading across his flushed face. It hadn't been a lot, he knew, but it had been a lot more favour than anyone he knew had ever managed. Even those that admired the man steered clear of him out of a healthy sense of self preservation. He felt his blood pumping through his veins as he leaned against the door behind him, catching his breath.  
  
The General... _The General let me serve him whisky._  


 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

The weeks that followed were both incredible and miserable for the Lieutenant. He found himself waiting with bated breath for the end of the day, falling into the same routine. Every day he would visit the General's office and inquire if he could be of service. Every day General Hux would tell him to pour him a drink. He would watch the man drink it, standing at the ready, waiting for any kind of further commands. A few days, after the man had had a particularly stressful day, he would request a second drink. Once, the General had commanded him to massage his shoulders. But these were rare occurrences. And every day, he would be casually dismissed after the glass was cleaned and put back in place.  
  
It excited him as much as it frustrated him. The General was not giving him any more than this allowance of quiet servitude, and he wanted _more_. Every night when he returned to his own quarters he would feel his cock in his hand, hard and throbbing with need, as he thought about the way the General's lips caressed the glass, and how badly he wished _he_ were that crystal glass. That the General might explore him with his tongue the way that he tasted the whisky that flowed into his mouth. He would cum like this, every night, wishing that the General would let him do more for him.  
  
Today, in a fit of frustration, he had done something different. He wanted the man's _attention_ , and doting on him, willingly serving him, going above and beyond to please him, was not getting it. He had put his uniform on as haphazard as possible. Half the shirt untucked. Let it get wrinkled on the floor the night before. Scuff the boots. He knew that all of these were punishable offences that could easily get him written up, and the General was stricter about such things than most he had served under. The man would _have_ to take notice.  
  
His heart was in his throat that day as he went about his duties. His fellow officers as well as subordinates gave him strange looks throughout the day, though nobody bothered to _say_ anything about his appearance. Some looked sympathetic, others looked amused. All eyes flickered from him to General Hux on the other side of the room, just waiting to see when the General would notice. Mitaka nervously went about his entire day waiting for the hand of judgment to come down on him. But he smiled to himself, feeling the man's eyes on him far more often than was usual. Quick glances in his direction told him the man was not pleased with him... but at least he was _noticing_ him.  
  
When his on duty shift was coming to a close, he heard his headset buzz. He swallowed in a strange mixture of fear and elation as he heard the cold voice of the General. “Lieutenant Mitaka. See me in my office. _Now_.”  
  
He gulped. He had been planning on stopping by the General's office as had become the norm anyways, but having a direct summons made his heart leap. With fear or happiness he could not tell. _The General wanted to see him_. Yes, it was to express his displeasure with him, but he _wanted to see him._ Everyone around him watched with some amount of confusion as he made his way to the General's office. Surely, they thought, this was a man on his way to his death sentence. Why was he _smiling_ about it?  
  
Sure enough, when he stood at attention before the man's desk, the usual apathy upon his face had been replaced with a scowl that could curdle milk. His eyes raked over his body, inspecting his dishevelled uniform and non regulation appearance. “Do you care to _explain_ yourself, Lieutenant?”  
  
Now it had come to it, Mitaka felt the earlier eagerness evaporate, replaced with a frustrated sense of impotence. He found himself lowering his gaze to avoid the man's eyes, sheepishness colouring his cheeks. His stomach clenched as he realized too late that this had been a _bad idea_. “I... I apologize, General. I overslept this morning. It wont happen again.” He had the decency to sound ashamed of himself. He had the decency to _feel_ it.  
  
“You're damned well _right_ it wont happen again.” The man's voice simmered with a barely audible kind of fury, patiently letting his subordinate squirm under the harshness of his gaze. Mitaka felt a thrill of terror as the man stood from his chair, crossing around the desk. He had never bothered to get up for him before. He watched with apprehension as the man circled him, his boots clicking on the floor as he walked, until he was standing directly behind him. “Remove your belt.”  
  
He frowned, confusion in his eyes as he turned his head to look at the General's face. “ _Sir?_ ” The ginger's brows narrowed as he looked down his nose at him. His voice turned harsh, his anger seeping through in his words. “Did I _stutter_ , Lieutenant?” At that Mitaka hastened to shake his head. “N..No Sir.” His heart pounding, he moved his hands to his belt, undoing the buckle and slipping the leather out of the loops of his uniform.  
  
He saw a gloved hand held out in his line of sight. “Give it to me.” He gulped, nodding, as he placed the folded strip of leather in the General's hand. His heart was beating rapidly now, some idea of what the General was about to do coming to mind. He wasn't going to write him up? This may be far worse, or far better, an outcome than he had imagined.  
  
“Go bend over the desk, and place your hands on either side of your head.” The General instructed him, Mitaka felt a shiver run down his spine as he obeyed, silently striding towards the desk. Hux's desk. The desk he had set so many glasses of whisky down upon. He felt his stomach twist inside of him as he lay his front down on top of it, pressed his chest to it's surface, and moved his hands to either side of his head, just as instructed. The General advanced to stand behind him, a booted foot kicking his legs apart. A whimper tore it's way through his throat.  
  
As he felt the mans hands reach out to touch him, he could not help but gasp. He had dreamed of the General touching him for so long... had wanted, _ached,_ for this kind of touch. He felt the hem of his pants pulled down, rough tugs that ended when they were hanging from his own boots, exposing his flesh underneath. “Now... _how many_ dress codes are you in violation of? I _know_ you know the number.” The man's voice was cold and hard, harder than he had spoken to him before, and he felt tears spring to his eyes at the sound.  
  
He mentally counted. Wrinkled and unwashed uniform. Uniform not in standard, regulation arrangement. Hair unkempt. Five o'clock shadow, unshaven. Boots unshined. “... _Five_... General, _Sir_.” He couldn't stop a moan from escaping him as he felt the man's hands on the bare skin of his ass and thighs. The General's voice was commanding and strict as he continued to speak. “Very _good._ I am going to give you one strike for each of these violations... in fact, let's add one more. For sleeping late.”  
  
Mitaka swallowed, his hands clutching the desk helplessly. Despite the fear that surged through him, he felt his cock hardening as the man touched him. He was already crooning for him, swaying into his hands like a pet desperate for affection. But affection was not what he would find here.  
  
The first strike made him gasp. He had been disciplined before, of course. At the Academy, in his younger years, and corporal punishment was hardly unheard of. But the General did not pull any punches. The sting was immediate, knocking the wind out of him as his own belt connected with the flesh of his left thigh. “I am not going to start soft, do you understand?” The General leaned over him, one of his hands moving to the nape of his neck to hold him down. “Each one of these blows is going to leave a welt that you will feel for _days_.”  
  
The second blow came, and it tore a scream from his throat that almost matched the pain in his right thigh. He hadn't even had a chance to get his breath back again when the third came. As pain sang through his body his fingers scrambled to grip the surface of the desk. He could feel his own arousal at the rough treatment, panting and gasping from the pain of the blows, his cock hard now, pressed between his stomach and the desk he was bent over.  
  
Then he felt the General's fingers lace through his hair, yanking his head back sharply, forcing him to arch his back. “ _Is this what you wanted?_ ” He gasped, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth as he felt the strain on his neck, the belt lightly touching his thighs. “S..Sir?” He managed to choke out a response, his voice betraying his confusion and his desperate need.  
  
The General's voice was cruel as he continued, his breath directly in the Lieutenant's ear, hot on his skin. “Don't think I don't _know_ what you're doing. Don't think I don't _notice_ the way your eyes linger on me _every day_ on this ship. I know that you are trying to gain my attention through this pitiful display of neediness.” His hand left his hair, leaving him sputtering and shaking. Then he felt the man reach around his body, grasping his rigid cock in a grip too tight for comfort. He cried out, squirmed, tried to rut in a feverish moment of need. The General stilled him with a firm grasp, holding him back from moving his hips. Another sharp blow came as the belt made a loud cracking sound, drawing another scream from the Lieutenant.

“You _wanted_ me to hurt you, _didn't_ you?” Hux's voice rolled over Mitaka's mind, and he let out a pathetic whimper, nodding quickly, eyes closed to bar against the shame that was colouring his face. “Yes.. _Yes Sir_ , Yes..” He gasped out the words, flushing deeper at the admittance of his own greedy lust for the man's attention, for the pain and the touch of his hands. There was another crack followed by a gasping groan of pain.  
  
“Do you _really_ prefer this? Do you crave my attention _so badly_ that you would sacrifice my regard for you? _You disappoint me_.” That caused a mournful wail to pour from the Lieutenant's lips. _No_ , no he didn't want the General to be disappointed with him, he wanted the General to _wan_ t him, to make use of him, to _touch_ him. _This was all wrong,_ it was _not_ what he wanted. Despite the pain and the arousal, he felt a crushing weight upon him, horrified that he had ruined what little he had been given.  
  
Then he felt a soothing hand on his thigh. His cock was released from the man's tight grip, his hand moving to circle his waist, an almost affectionate kind of touch that made him blink back tears that were welling up in his eyes. When he spoke, however, it was with no less hard malice than before, and he found himself sobbing at the sound of it.  
  
“I _do not_ want to see you acting out like this _ever_ again, is that understood? It is unbecoming, and you are _so_ much better than this.” He nodded quickly, tears streaming down his face. “Yes... _Yes General_ I'm.. _I'm so sorry_.. please, _please_ forgive me Sir, I'm sorry...” The sixth and final blow was administered, to his screams and sobs of atonement. He shook and panted where he still lay, bent out over the desk, his ass bare and his legs stinging, three beautifully red welts on each thigh.  
  
The General stood over him, fixing his own uniform. “Put yourself back together, Lieutenant. This issue is over, and _done_ with. I _expect_ it will not be repeated.” Mitaka nodded, hastening to pick himself up off the desk. He was breathing heavily as he pulled his pants back up, hissing through his teeth as the fabric scraped over the angry welts left by the belt which the General had left on the desk next to his hands. He scooped it up quickly, replacing it around his waist, his face burning with shame.  
  
When he had finished, making a feeble attempt to smooth out some of the wrinkles in the fabric of his uniform, he clicked his heels together and once again stood to attention, taming his face back into the emotionless professionalism expected of him. The General let him wait a few more moments before he nodded, gesturing towards the door.  
  
“You're dismissed.”

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

The next day, Mitaka was hesitant to visit the General's office. He wasn't certain if the General would continue to allow him to serve him, even in some small, meagre kind of way, as had become their routine. He hoped, desperately, that he had not ruined what little measure of servitude he had had by his ill conceived actions the previous day. His heart was in his throat when he buzzed to request entrance to the General's office.  
  
And then it soared, leaping for joy in his chest, when the man's crisp voice rang out over the comm. “You may enter.” He did so, trying to hide the eager relief from his face. He mostly succeeded, though General Hux was known for being observant enough that he probably hadn't succeeded completely. Standing to attention before the desk, watching the man who was engrossed in his work. All of it seemed as though they had fallen back into routine. The General ignored him for a full five minutes before allowing him to be at ease, and then requesting two fingers of Corellian whisky be brought to him.  
  
The Lieutenant moved as in a dream, gratitude gripping him as he placed the crystal glass on the desk, standing by for further instructions. This time the General did not go immediately back to his work, as was usual. This time his gaze lingered on him, looking him up and down. Mitaka had taken extra care with his appearance this morning, determined to prove that the previous day had been just a woefully ill conceived deviation from the norm.  
  
The General watched him carefully as he raised the glass to his lips. Tilted his head just slightly to allow a trickle of whisky to warm his tongue. Holding the glass aloft, he gestured to the floor with his fingers, lips parting to give the Lieutenant a very unexpected command. “Get on your knees.”  
  
Mitaka's eyes widened, a thrill of anticipation fluttering through his heart. He immediately lowered himself, his knees coming to rest on the ground beneath him. His breathing beginning to quicken. He looked up with wide eyes at the General, who was inspecting him with the same cold, callus gaze he always employed. It made the Lieutenant's blood race and his skin crawl with desire.  
  
“ _So._ ” The General seemed to be considering, reclining somewhat in the chair as he turned to be fully facing his subordinate. One leg crossed over the other. The glass raised once again to his lips as he looked at the man beneath him with an almost hungry kind of twinkle in his eyes. “You want to be of _service_ to me?”  
  
Mitaka nodded, his lips parted already. Panting breaths as his eyes glassed over with lust and desire. He could feel himself stiffening, his cock already tenting his uniform. “Yes.. yes Sir. _Always_ , Sir.” The ginger did not respond for a moment, throat moving as he swallowed another drop of whisky, taking his time before he set the glass down on the desk. It hit the surface with a light clink, the golden liquid spinning slightly within the crystal. Then he gestured to the Lieutenant to move closer. “Come here.”  
  
There was eagerness written upon the man's face as he moved forward, eyes wide and vulnerable, skin flushed and pink. He moaned openly when he felt the leather hands grasp his head, fingers twisting in his hair and pulling him forward. Shuddered as he felt his face pulled flush against the prominent bulge in the man's uniform. Hastily moved himself into a position on his knees that would allow him to comfortably rest his head against the hard erection beneath the fabric. He felt the leather gloves stroke the side of his face in a soothing motion before the hands were removed and he heard the clink of a belt buckle being undone.  
  
It was surreal, this moment. A moment like this, he had dreamed about for so long, ever since his first day aboard the ship. He licked his lips in anticipation as the General released his cock from the confines of his uniform, the sheer length of it impressing him and making his eyes widen. He moved at once to take it in his mouth, but then stopped, hesitating. _Was he allowed?_ “May... may I suck your cock, please, General?”  
  
He didn't see the approving smile spread across his superior officer's lips. But he heard the crisp response, delivered in just the same manor of cold professionalism as anything else that passed the General's lips. “You may, Lieutenant.”  
  
He moved forward, his lips parted and his eyes closed in reverence as he took the head into his mouth. Pushed forward, felt the firmness on his tongue. The taste of the man, salty with sweat and musk. He groaned, trembling with sheer happiness that he was being allowed to do this at all. With a sigh he began to suck, closing his lips around it and drawing it deeper into his mouth. He could not help but whimper, feeling it fill his mouth and press to the back of his throat. It was so large... difficult to take. That only made him want to take it all the more.  
  
He raised a tentative hand to grasp the shaft, wanting to work the rest of it that he could not fit in his mouth. The General gave no indication if he was doing a good job or not. He was silent, watching him closely as he moved his head, bobbing back and forth, stroking him with his hand. Finally the man stirred, a heavy sigh on his lip as his legs came to rest with more relaxation on either side of the Lieutenant's head. “No, I don't like that with your hand. Put your hands behind your back.”  
  
Mitaka hastened to comply, moving his hands to grasp each other behind his back, his right hand slicked with saliva and precum. There was an almost cruel chuckle from the General as he continued to suck, pushing himself to take it deeper. “That's right.. without your hands you will have to use your throat, _wont you?_ ” The Lieutenant's eyes were bright, widened and blown with aching need as he looked up at the man who's cock was buried so deep down his throat that his stomach heaved.  
  
He continued, regulating his breathing with care so that he could take more of it. He felt overwhelmed by the feeling of it, the taste and the thick stretching sensation, his lips pulled wide around it. The General's hand was kept in his hair, pulling him into place if he strayed too far from what he liked. For the most part, however, he let the Lieutenant do the work, pushing himself to please him. His tongue darting out to caress the underside, to wrap around the head with every thrust down his willing throat.  
  
No encouragement was offered, no praise for the hard work the Lieutenant was putting himself to. He didn't need it. He wanted to please him regardless, bobbing his head back and forth. He felt strangely at peace here, on his knees, his General's cock buried to the hilt down his throat, the mans testicles slapping with an obscene sound against his chin. It was hypnotic, and it made him feel so very wanted, needed... _useful._  
  
He felt the man's hand tighten in his hair, the only indication that he the General felt anything at all. “I'm going to cum soon, Lieutenant.” The man's voice certainly did not betray his state, as in control as it ever was. “If you get _any_ mess on my uniform, I will be _very_ displeased with you.” He looked up at the man with wide eyes, nodding as much as he could to acknowledge the order. A gurgle escaped his throat, lust filled and strained.  
  
When the man came, he almost gagged, strings of cum shooting down his throat and overwhelming his senses. The taste was salty and bitter, flooding him until he felt certain he was going to spill. He hastened to swallow, fighting back the gagging and the turning of his stomach. When the General pulled him off of his cock by the hair, he was coughing and sputtering, chest heaving as he sucked in breath after sweet breath. The taste lingered. Then, in a daze, he felt something else pressed to his lips. Cool and smooth. Crystal.  
  
He looked up in shock to see the General holding the whisky glass to his lips. “Open.” A single worded command came from the ginger, and he parted his lips again in obedience as the General tilted his head back for him, pouring the last of the whisky down his throat. He swallowed, felt the burning that rushed into his throat and the warmth that coated his tongue. He was not accustomed to hard liquor, and it showed. As the glass was removed and set on the desk he was coughing, the taste of cum replaced by the taste of Corellian whisky.  
  
“On your feet.” The command rang out, and he was rising even as he continued to gasp for breath. The General had already tucked his own uniform back in place. For a moment he was overcome by the act that he had just engaged in. General Hux had never allowed him to be so.. _. intimate_ with him before, and it made his chest swell with pride and his cheeks flush with an earnest kind of pleasure. Not only had he made the General cum, the General had given him some of his own private stock of liquor. He didn't think he ever wanted to rid the taste from his mouth.  
  
He stood to attention, burning under the gaze of his superior. Finally the General nodded, a curt gesture that signalled an end to their liaison. “You are dismissed, Lieutenant.” Mitaka nodded in acknowledgement, and turned to leave. Taking in a deep breath, he paused by the door, turning to face the man at the desk, who had quite routinely gone back to his work, his attention completely occupied by the datapad and various screens in front of him now. He cleared his throat, and was rewarded only with a small glance up in his direction.  
  
“Th... _thank you_. General.” The gratitude he felt towards this man was authentic and raw. He felt he could burst into tears this very moment, but the time for such shows of vulnerability was past. Hux acknowledged the sentiment only by raising his hand, his eyes and his attention firmly on his work. Mitaka knew that by itself was a huge favour from the man, his cheeks reddening as he turned, the doors swishing behind him, his pants still tented and uncomfortably tight around his straining erection.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
  
  
  
He grasped his cock, alone in his own quarters. It felt harder than usual in his hand, gripping it firmly with a leather glove. He could not remove from his mind the tantalizing fantasy of the General, holding him down on the bed. Imagined that he was forcing him, pinning his shoulders with his knees. A whimper escaped his lips as he pictured the way his cock had felt on his tongue. The way it had _tasted._ He groaned, moving his other hand to push his fingers down his own throat, a poor substitute for what he had felt earlier.  
  
The taste of skin was similar, but not the same. His fingers were not thick enough to fill his mouth the way he had gagged himself on the General's cock. A moan came from him as he moved his hand up and down on his own length, squeezing hard for a moment, hard like the General had touched him the day before.  
  
Then, in curiosity, he moved his fingers from his mouth, still wet and slick with saliva, down his body to his asshole. Felt his breath hitch as he touched himself there, tentatively swirling his fingertips around the hole. Imagined what it might be like if General Hux were touching him in this way. Holding him down, fingering him like a cheap whore.  
  
The General would be gentle, _maybe_ , at first, he thought. But it would soon become _rough_. He pressed his finger into himself and moaned aloud into the room, no longer bothering to hold back as he tried to ease his entrance open. His other hand still moving up and down on his length.  
  
Then he imagined more. What it the General would _fuck_ him? What would _that_ feel like? The weight of the man's body, pressed against his, skin to skin. The _scent_ of him, heady and strong, smelling of cologne and cigarettes, a hint of whisky on his breath. How it would feel to have his cock pressing into him. He pushed in another finger, desperate to feel further friction.  
  
Would Hux _ever_ fuck him? He whimpered, wishing desperately that the man might consider him worthy of such attentions. He shouted at the thought of how it might feel when he had finally entered him all the way, felt his cock hilting against his ass. Cum shot out over his hand, streams of it as he pictured it, wished for it, longed for it. “G.. _General!_ ” The word on his lips at the moment of climax, his whole body shuddering as he came. Then he lay there panting in the bed, by himself, gasping for breath, and remembering the taste of Corellian whisky.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Mitaka's fingers worked into the shoulders of the General. He stood behind him, moving his hands to seek out all the knots and the tensions that a life of stress and overworking could cause. The General sighed, lifting a gloved hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “He's. Destroying. _My ship_.”  
  
His voice was tight, strained tension behind his words. They had worked together for almost a year now, the pair having settled into a reasonably steady flow of life. The Lieutenant would visit the General's office if time allowed, and would wait on him. It didn't always allow anymore, life having become rather hectic, but today he knew the General had been more than a little stressed so he had made sure there would be time. He had begun to be able to pick up on his moods.  
  
The Master of the Knights of Ren had recently been assigned to the Finalizer, by the Supreme Leader himself no less. Everyone on the ship had quickly come to fear the mysterious personage... everyone _except_ for General Hux. The General was more _aggravated_ by him than anything else. He displayed vast amounts of power, but with no restraint. He had been on the ship a week and his temper was already legendary.   
  
“Can I get you a _drink,_ General?” His fingertips continued to work into the tight muscles of his shoulders. He wished, not for the first time, that the General would let him touch more of him than this, but he knew better than to ask for such favours. General Hux had not renewed any form of sexual intimacy with him since the one time he had allowed him to service him with his mouth... a memory that the Lieutenant cherished. He continued to allow Mitaka to serve him in other small ways however, and the Lieutenant knew that he had to be content with that.  
  
Hux shook his head, reaching into a pocket to grasp a cigarette, placing it between his lips. “No, not today thank you. Light this.” Mitaka's hands left the man's shoulders for a brief moment to reach into his own pocket for the lighter he always had on his person now, even though he did not smoke. The faint smell of sulphur hit his nostrils as he clicked it on, reaching around to light the cigarette that the General held between his lips. Then he pocketed the thing and resumed his attentions to his shoulders, moving his hands down just a little ways to work in between the shoulder blades. He was rewarded with a contented sigh of appreciation, which always served to make his heart flutter.  
  
“Lieutenant Mitaka...” General Hux's voice was like honey on his ears. It was firm, but inviting. He liked to fancy that there was some small amount of warmth or affection in his voice when he spoke to him, a warmth that did not surface when he spoke to others. But that, he realized, might just be his own wishful thinking. “You would _anything_ I commanded of you. Yes?”  
  
He blinked, his heart all but stopping. Did the General want him to do something _more?_ Yes, _yes_ , a _million_ times yes. He would go to Hell and back if it pleased the man. He swallowed and nodded, carefully keeping a steady rhythm with his hands. “Yes Sir. Of course Sir.”  
  
“If I told you to strip naked, get down on your knees, and rut against my boot to completion while I watched, would you do it?” The Lieutenant's breath hitched and his face flushed. The General's voice was soft and compelling. Immediately images of just such a scenario flooded him, and he had to stop himself from whimpering in eager, breathless desire. “Yes. _Sir_.”  
  
He did not see the almost cruel smile that crossed the General's features at that reply. “What if there were other officers in the room, watching? What if I wanted you to thoroughly debase and humiliate yourself for my amusement? Would you?” His voice sounded curious, as if the answer to the postulation actually interested him. Mitaka swallowed, his imagination working in overtime. He hadn't considered public humiliation before, and the idea was slightly frightening... but...  
  
“Yes Sir. I would, Sir.” His breath was coming heavily now. He would do anything, absolutely anything the General asked of him, and he knew it. Did not even wish to deny it. Nothing would please him more than if General Hux used him further than had become their customary evenings of quiet service. He heard the man chuckle quietly, as though the answer amused him, nodding his head in contemplation.  
  
“That's _good_. I appreciate such loyalty.” Mitaka's hands continued to massage his tired back, soothing the aches and pains. Mitaka was, in the General's opinion, the best masseuse on the ship. And his talents belonged solely to him. “ _Tell_ me, then, Lieutenant...”  
  
“How do you feel about _treason?_ ”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!


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